


And She Wonders

by acurseshecannotwin



Series: One Hundred Moments [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 100 prompts, F/M, PWP, mentions of adultry, nr. 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acurseshecannotwin/pseuds/acurseshecannotwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t believe in magic, no. Doesn’t believe in fairytales and that whole Disney crap either. True Love doesn’t exist, she knows that, learned that. Learned that the hard way, and yet, she wonders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And She Wonders

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt number two was 'Spell', which looking at it, doesn't exactly have something to do with this piece anymore but it inspired me to write it, so be it. 
> 
> Unbetaed, mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Don't own the show or the characters.
> 
> No magic, no curse.

She doesn’t believe in magic, no. Doesn’t believe in fairytales and that whole Disney crap either. True Love doesn’t exist, she knows that, learned that. Learned that the hard way. She had come home late from the office one night, earlier still than she normally does. That’s when she had caught him, had caught him with another in their bed. Instead of yelling, screaming, or arguing with him she had pulled two duffle bags out of their closet. Ignoring him and his whore completely. Not responding to any of his attempts to get her to talk. He had died for her that moment. 

Regina had done so much for him, had financed him through culinary school, putting his carrier behind her own. She had born him a child, their son. Henry. Her everything. She had endured fight after fight with her mother for him, believing that he was worth it, that he was the one. Her prince charming, oh how wrong she had been. Mother will be delighted to find out that she was right. Her stomach twists with the thought of informing her mother, of telling her son why they wouldn’t stay with Daddy, why he only would see him on the weekends.

Granted, the girl had left. Had snuck out shortly after Regina had stepped into the bedroom, their bedroom. 

And Regina would too. 

She fills the two bags easily, one for her and one for Henry. He still tries to get a response from her, tries to get a reaction from her, anything, really, but she ignores him, ignores him still and won’t stop to do so until they appear before a judge to end their marriage. She would file for a divorce, starting tomorrow…or perhaps today should she get a hold of one of her partners in the law firm before morning. 

There isn’t much in her bags, a few clothes, a few of toys for Henry, the book she had filled with memories of the first five years of his life. She wonders, wonders briefly how long he had fucked the whore behind her back, if it had been going on for weeks, months, years perhaps. Henry stayed at his Grandparent’s over night each Thursday since six months now, Regina unable to pick him up from school after his PE class, his mother more than willing to spend time with their little prince, spoiling him like he deserved to. And she wonders, wonders still if he used that day, and that day only to betray her in the worst way possible or if he had other days, other whores, other places. 

She never found out, never truly wanted to know. That day, after she stepped out of their shared home, carrying two duffle bags to her car, not having once responded to his bagging pleas of let me explain and talk to me please, he died for her and the belief in true love, fairytales and magic along with it. 

Regina knew, that all that crap Disney and romantic comedies tried to make you believe, didn’t exist. Daniel had taught her that lesson with ease. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something like fate, like meant to be, or if it all was only one big coincidence. 

She wondered when she kissed him at midnight on New Years, when he was not much more than a stranger to her; she wondered when he introduced her to his son, a brown mop of curls and dimples, barely fours years old; she wondered when he met Henry and her son easily decided that he likes him, likes him as much as Roland likes her; she wondered when her mother — her mother who never believes anything or anyone is good enough for her, approved of him; she always wondered. 

Even now, now when he is moving above her, inside her, in and out of her. His weight braced on his arms on either side of her head, her arms wrapped around his frame, pulling him down, close, so much closer towards her. Regina wonders even now, when she meats him thrust for thrust, the pace he set hard and fast. One of her hands sneaks up to the back of his head, manages to fist into his short hair while her own head falls back, with a moan rolling of her lips. He smiles, smirks, she can feel it, can feel his lips against her skin, against her neck, moving up, kissing, nipping, marking. She wonders still, wonders if she was meant to meet him, how she met him, she wonders while he pushes her closer and closer to the pleasurable abyss that is her orgasm, she wonders while his name rolls of her lips, with her back bowed of the mattress, clutching onto his back, his skin. 

Regina knows that fairytales and magic don’t exist, knows true love is something Disney made up, she learned that the hard way, still she can’t help but wonder, if perhaps, just perhaps the man laying beside her, one of his arms draped across her body to hold her against his, has her under some kind of spell. Giving her hope, allowing her to believe in something like fate.


End file.
